


the queen of the night

by rosewhips



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F!Byleth, F/M, God Dimitri, Priestess Byleth, Tragic Romance, dimitri comes face with face with byleth’s mortality ):
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewhips/pseuds/rosewhips
Summary: “Mortals reminded him of butterflies. So fragile, so transient, so easily crushed into nothingness by the whims of time as it tugged and strummed fate’s strings. All they left behind were the memories they once lived and shared, memories that stained and haunted their loved ones with grief.”Even the god of destruction and retribution is powerless against impartial, inevitable death.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	the queen of the night

Petal-soft lips met his in urgent need, fuelling the flame that consumed him from the inside. His large hands, hands that sparked destructive maelstroms, ran across her body with a tenderness so unbecoming of his ferocity. His knuckles brushed along the pretty pink apples of her cheekbones, his lips soon following the path his hands had claimed as his own. 

Byleth chuckled at the sweet way he coaxed the coil of desire burning within her, treating her like she was  _ more _ , like she  _ mattered _ . She felt unworthy, basking in the Thunderer’s attention but he’d chase those worries away with his lips, holding her in his arms until her fleeting doubts melted away into a stillness that would encompass the two in a warm afterglow.

As he sat upon his throne in the heavens, he’d wait in anticipation for when they could next meet, for he was often pulled away by divine duties he had to tend to. People sought him when they demanded retribution against those who wronged them.  _ The One-Eyed God, The Thunderer, The Tempest, _ they called him as his imposing presence instilled an unshakable fear in mortal hearts.

The power of destruction lay in his fingertips but so did the gift of benevolence. People also prayed to him for rain, for sun, for weather that guaranteed their livelihood. Without him, no civilisation would flourish.

Her prayer had been one that had reached him. Byleth was a person he’d always been familiar with, for she possessed such remarkable faith that she could speak with him herself. She had never asked for more, the well-being of her people mattered incredibly, coming only second to her devotion to him.

Before he knew it, the two of them had engaged in many conversations, straying from their duties. The god found the mortal’s soul so beautiful. His heart fluttered at the mere sound of her chuckle, getting louder when he felt like he could just  _ tell _ that she was smiling while speaking, his heartbeats reverberating through the strong winds.

How terribly he wanted her. Like how a storm chased after verdure, spinning and ravaging it in its consuming path, his heart longed for her and her alone.

He never thought she’d want him so desperately too.

As they lay together in the calm, warm silence of the night, they’d often intertwine their fingers and look up at the stars. But even in those moments of peace, a curtain of uncertainty shadowed the lovers. He both dreaded and feared when he’d have to leave her embrace, and he’d wonder if he would ever feel her love again.

If you had once asked him if he would ever give up his godhood to be with a mere mortal woman, a priestess who worshipped him at that, he would have laughed and asked if you were jesting. 

Now, he wondered if he would answer that question differently.

Their union brought him immense joy but also a lingering feeling of trepidation. When he held her in his arms and kissed her senseless, he feared she would dissipate into a million stars, returning to the dust that mortality had been created from. When she dragged her hands through his pearlescent scars, he’d later brood over whether he’d feel those hands explore his body again.

Perhaps, they were not meant to be. Their lives were worlds apart and the Fates watched him chase every moment with her urgently, like he was the mortal about to meet his preordained end. The Fates laughed, as he strove to make each meeting with her end on a crescendo— and set their plans in motion to tear them apart.

Gods did not frequent mortal graves.

The warm hands that had once cherished him lay folded over her chest, cold, laced with the ashen smell of death’s final kiss. His worst fears had come true when Byleth succumbed to illness, one that knew no human cure.

Oh, how he had chased down the wisest of beings, turning to deities like the All-Seer, the Wise One and even the Fates. He tried to still Death’s hand but none made any exceptions. Byleth was a mortal and she had to fulfil the destiny laid out for her.

Dimitri had to let her go. 

And how he detested that her death could not kill him too.

Crimson tears, reminiscent of the mortal blood that flowed through Byleth’s veins, streamed down his cheeks, cascading down the stone, blossoming into red anemones which covered her grave. The storm outside the mausoleum raged on, as raindrops crashed against steel and stone.

Mortals reminded him of butterflies. So fragile, so transient, so easily crushed into nothingness by the whims of time as it tugged and strummed fate’s strings. All they left behind were the memories they once lived and shared, memories that stained and haunted their loved ones with grief.

His time with Byleth flashed before his eyes, drowning him in yearning. He felt as if a part of his heart had been clawed out of him, leaving him hollow, twisted by the very storms he controlled. His palm reached out for something he could never grasp with his fingertips. The heart of a cosmos lived inside him, but it no longer mattered. He could do nothing, despite the enchanted ichor that flowed through his veins.

His fingers danced along the scar covering his chest, elongating into tendrils that entered him, reaching for the essence that created his divinity. His nails tore through the fragments that hoarsely sang: _Byleth, Byleth, Byleth,_ barely separating those slivers from his being. 

He tugged on the strings and pulled out, panting, laughing emptily as he stared at the star-studded filaments that bound this part of his heart to his body. 

Byleth’s eyes looked like these threads, reminiscent of the night sky: glittering, adoring, blanketing him—a safe haven. 

He could almost smell the sweet spring that clung to her skin, feel his hands running through her wild locks, and taste her red lips. Her arms clung to his much like vines would to a large tree, intertwining into his soul, leaving an indestructible mark that would be etched for all eternity.

The god gathered summer’s tincture, moulding and infusing it into his exposed heart, as he recalled their heated embraces and passionate kisses. The image of her smile, wide and pearly white, pulled at his heartstrings as his fingers severed the summoned magic that clung to him.

When fellow priests returned to complete her funeral rites, all that was left of her had vanished—the blanket of anemones lifted to reveal a red bud, tightly shut.

Once a year, during the lapse of a long summer night, the bud opened and bloomed into a white flower with a scent so sweet and mild, that it soothed the minds of those in its presence. 

A divine vision was bestowed upon the Oracle, who revealed that Dimitri called this flower the ‘Queen of the Night.’

**Author's Note:**

> HHHHHHHHHHHH this was so tragic but beautiful, i loved this prompt so much i HAD to write it! 
> 
> I had the opportunity to write this prompt as one of the Garden of Eden zine’s requests. Please check it out!! The team is incredible and I am honoured to be a part of it. ♡


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